A Modern Fable
by Risque Tendencies
Summary: Some folks would call Kazunari a lucky bastard. He preferred to think it was his strong determination that forged his success in life, however. Superhero!AU. Sequel to "Fanboys & Flyboys."
1. Chapter 1

**A Modern Fable**

* * *

**Characters**: [Takao, Midorima], Aomine. Some others because I just can't not.

**Notes**: This is a sequel of sorts to my other story, _Fanboys and Flyboys_. This reads best if you read that story first. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this cracktastic superhero AU of mine, and please consider leaving a review at the end if you do!

This installment will be broken up into 2 chapters, so there's more to come!

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Some folks would call Kazunari a lucky bastard. He preferred to think it was his strong determination that forged his success in life, however.

His last gig was all wrapped up, and he'd only looked for about a week before he located his next assignment. And what a prodigious job it turned out to be. The very dream of any up-and-coming producer in this metropolis' television sector, a coveted spot working on the hit reality segment, Hero TV. Granted, it was more of an assistant type role, which was a downgrade from his previous post, but he was still thankful to be hired.

Today was his first day working, and Kazunari was interested to see what tasks the higher-ups might set for him. Most likely he'd be stuck doing something mundane until he proved himself worthy of moving up the ladder.

Strolling through the main part of the broadcasting office, the raven set no expectations that he could potentially be disappointed in. Legions of other employees chattered and busied themselves around him; he was just the newest cog in the wheel. He tracked down the door of the superior he was supposed to be checking in with. The guy was squeezed away into one corner of the office in a miniscule room labeled with his name: _Otsubo Taisuke_.

Reaching up, Takao rapped a few times on the oaken portal before it swung open.

Behind, a great bear of a man materialized, dark eyes making a rapid assessment of his appearance. After deciding he was satisfactory, or met whatever criteria the boss was entertaining, the guy stepped back to admit him into his domain - a cramped but exceedingly tidy space lined with books and various portraits, probably of his family judging by the similar look of the kids featured.

They seated themselves on either side of the desk and made polite greetings, Kazunari confirming his information for the superior and filling out a couple of new hire forms. As soon as the paper trail was dealt with, though, Otsubo got right down to business.

"I'm going to put you in as a gofer for one of our heroes here. Anything they need help with, that's what you'll do. Normally, this wouldn't be a hard job, but I have high hopes for you, Takao-kun. Do well and you can go far in our office, maybe even produce a segment someday. Is that agreeable to you?"

"Sure, and thanks for the confidence, boss! Though, why did you say 'normally'? Something I ought to know?"

Takao studied the other keenly as his expression darkened. It was hard to figure what emotion was screening itself on the elder's face but he'd bet it was a form of frustration. Nonetheless, it gave him a sinking feeling in his stomach contemplating how bad his work had to be if even the boss seemed to feel bad about seconding him to that task. Was it truly that horrifying?

"The hero we're overseeing is... eccentric. Well, you will be in charge of him now, I only act as a go between for him and the sponsors. His demands have been known to mystify and even annoy previous employees to the point of asking for a transfer elsewhere, or just quitting altogether."

At that lull, a vigorous knock sounded at the door, causing Kazunari to startle in his chair. Was that the hero, coming to size him up?

If it was indeed who he was picturing that would be his charge for the foreseeable future, he was definitely intimidated. And definitely not surprised to find out that legions of people before him had bolted rather than trying to tough the job out. The Emperor certainly was... that sort of a guy. After all, anyone who read minds had a scary slant to them, but the Emperor also happened to score a lot of creepy points from his demeanor alone. He was a commanding presence, a King of Heroes in the style of Machiavelli, who surmised it was better to be feared than loved.

The portal next swung open, revealing a lanky, blond male sporting a sour expression.

At the sight, the raven quelled his racing pulse. Even though this guy didn't seem particularly friendly from what Kazunari was seeing, it at least wasn't the hero...yet. For all his atmosphere, the Emperor lacked sorely in the height department, and thus logically couldn't be the one at the door.

"So you've filled him in about the brat already, I hear," the newcomer tossed out, leaning heavily on the door frame.

"Takao-kun, this guy's Miyaji. He works with me on the sales side of things. If you have any questions, he's another one you can ask," Otsubo introduced, gesturing a finger at the blond.

"Don't be so quick to add shit to my plate, Otsubo, you know I'm no goddamned mentor."

"Well, that's apparent," Kazunari interrupted humorously, flashing his senior a grin. "I'll try not to impose on you too much, senpai. I'm a big boy; I think I can handle myself for the most part."

"Talk to me again after you meet him. Anyway, follow me - I'll take you to do that right now. My intuition's telling me he's probably already thought of something he'll want you to do. There always is, at the beginning of a day," Miyaji trailed grumpily, eyes narrowing as if recalling a previous unpleasant occasion.

"You'll find out soon enough that he's got a routine. If you can handle it, then I guess it's not complicated in that you'll know what to expect. And you'd best learn what to expect; he won't hold your hand until you learn how he wants things done."

Takao nodded to indicate his understanding. He then turned to bid the boss a farewell before tagging behind the blond, who led him out across the main floor, where the bulk of the employees worked in loose islands of desks and computers. It was once they were in the thick of the chaos that an alarmingly simple concern occurred to him.

"By the way, I don't suppose you could tell me who I'm going to be working for?"

A head cocked to stare at him over one shoulder, briefly, but they remained walking.

"Otsubo didn't even tell you that much? Geez, he's been secretive with the new hires lately. Guess he doesn't want them backing out before the ink on the contract's dry, because then he at least gets your labor for two weeks. You'll find out soon enough, but I'll be nice and tell you now. The hero we lowly souls must bow and scrape to is... Fortune Fighter."

And though in the back of his mind he'd always assumed it was a reasonable possibility, Takao's response to the news was surprise. He felt his lips stretching in what must have been a positively absurd grin, and on the inside he wanted nothing more than to celebrate. After all, wasn't he the luckiest guy in this entire building? To get to work closely with someone you admired was like winning the lottery. His heart soared.

"What's with the dopey look on your face?" Miyaji had stopped now, and was pointedly observing him.

"To be honest, Fortune Fighter's my favorite hero. I'm a big fan."

"Wonderful. We'll see how long that opinion lasts then. Don't think we've gotten a fan to work for him before, so maybe it'll be different."

"Are you being sarcastic, senpai?"

"Draw your own conclusions. Now come on," the blond ordered, doing an about face.

As they prepared to continue their journey, however, they were intercepted by an energetic newcomer. The instant his co-worker caught sight of the guy, an expression of deepest loathing etched itself onto Miyaji's features. This imbued Kazunari with a sense of curiosity. He made a quick once-over of the other employee. Orange haired, with a broad smile and an air of hyperactivity about him.

"Who's this guy who's all but sprinting over here?" Takao leaned in to whisper conspiratorially, placing a hand against his mouth to quiet the sound.

"Hayama," the elder answered curtly, "Don't bother wasting your time with him in the future; he's a nuisance. He works for the Emperor though, so you may cross paths."

"Hmm?" the raven hummed playfully, "You two seem close though."

Before Miyaji could do more than scoff, the so-called nuisance was upon them.

"There you are! When are you gonna let me take you out, Miyaji-_senpai_? When? When?" The younger clamored, wrapping himself around the blond's forearm.

Large, round coal-black eyes burned into the elder's, unnerving even Takao with their frenetic intensity. Though, more than anything else, this sort of shenanigan made him want to laugh. Loudly, excessively, from the bottom of his stomach. However, if he wanted to keep on good terms with his co-worker, he probably shouldn't do that.

"Approximately never-o-clock. Now, MOVE you little urchin; go and do your job!" Miyaji forcefully wrenched himself free from the clinging bundle of energy that Hayama was and took a step back. He wagged a finger in the orange-haired male's face as if to emphasize his point. "I'm sure your boss doesn't want cold coffee, so better get a move on!"

With that last threat, he huffed once, and surged forward, throwing himself back into the task he'd been at before the commotion.

Wising up, Kazunari silently followed, letting his superior try to vent out some of his anger by stomping noisily as he traversed the floor. He definitely wasn't going to open his trap when this guy's hair-trigger temper had so recently been activated. He didn't want to die that badly.

Several tense minutes later, after navigating an impressive labyrinth of hallways, the two arrived at a quieter section of the building.

Here the doors were more sparse, and the people even sparser. Their destination proved to be a portal emblazoned with the hero's name. Standing in front of it, ostensibly about to meet his idol for the second time, Kazunari's smile was luminous.

Miyaji knocked a few times, paused, but after receiving no response, foisted the door open, striding in as if it wasn't the entrance to hollowed grounds.

Takao trailed after him, unsure what to expect inside. The view he gleaned was one that managed to knock even a carefree soul such as himself back a few pegs upon witnessing it. After all, how many people got to see this? Was he even meant to see it?

Fortune Fighter, if only by chance, was bereft of a mask, the profile view of his face bared and accessible to Kazunari's wandering gaze. Easy to spot too were silken emerald locks combed neatly into place, cut to the length of just below his ear. When not wearing the goggles specially crafted for his work, he wore rectangular-lensed glasses with a outer black frame, the top side left unbordered. Taking everything in, the raven's pulse galloped.

However, he needed to keep an outward professional facade - somehow.

Pleasantly enough for him, his new charge was the first one to speak.

"Oh, it's you." A baleful look was tossed his direction.

At it, Kazunari's sense of humor was provoked; there had to be some reason why the hero was trying to act so cold to him, for his performance was hardly genuine. He'd just have to figure out why that was, using unsavory means if necessary. This was going to be a great job, he could feel it already.

"So you remember me, Fortune Fighter-chan?" He grinned, stepping closer to the desk where the other was enthroned.

"From the convention, yes," the hero stated, amusingly matter of fact in his tone.

"I must have made quite an impression," Takao parried. "Well, I'll be working for you from now on, so please take care of me."

Rather than make any verbal acknowledgment of that promise, the other nodded once then turned back to the front, engrossing himself once more in a large ream of paperwork from the latest cases he'd assisted on. Kazunari didn't know it yet, but despite the aura of glitz and adventure Hero TV projected when it aired, most of his working days were destined to be spent as mundanely as this.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

"Takao!"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming," the raven chanted dully as he wended his way through the hero's private office, balancing a drink in one hand and a napkin in the other. It was mid-morning and already he was beginning to feel harried; it was just one of those days. A day where nothing went right, which, in the life of Fortune Fighter, always corresponded to one ridiculous factor.

Cancers were ranked last today.

At times, Kazunari was inclined to find it insane that without fail, every time this happened, twenty four hours (well, all right, not quite twenty four) of hell followed. On occasions where he'd managed to dredge up his sense of humor from wherever it ran for cover, he found it mildly amusing that someone's adversity could be so neatly regimented.

Fortune Fighter really _was_ a guy who needed luck to be on his side for him to be in fighting condition. Any deviation and the guy was safer off being benched. Of course, if the job called for him, he'd have to participate, walking danger magnet or not.

Stepping into the main section of the room, he drew up on the hero's desk, surveying the damages for himself.

Splattered across the floor below were the remnants of what had been a well-steeped cup of tea, if Kazunari did say so himself. Alas, this didn't come as a surprise. He'd been cleaning up after these sorts of incidents all morning. Fortune Fighter, apparently on a nervous bent due to the day's horoscope, had been accidentally smashing the cups with short bursts of his power, one after the other.

"What is this? Where's..."

"I thought it was about time we gave the tea a rest." Reaching around him to set the new drink down on the desk, Takao paused to flash his boss a weary grin before ducking down to begin clearing the bones of the latest unlucky vessel.

"The number of mug casualties is at an all-time high now that you've demolished five of them; that's more than last month. Besides, you like this stuff, don't you, Fortune Fighter-chan? I've seen you get it from the vending machine before, so you must."

Bristling only marginally, Midorima reached for the can of _oshiruko_ in front of him. He unlatched the top then drank down a lengthy sip.

They had battled over the familiar nickname for the longest period, but Fortune Fighter had eventually capitulated, ignoring Takao any time it was flung his way.

He must have realized that in lieu of revealing his true name to Kazunari, being addressed by his title was the only option, and also that he was unlikely to forgo the cutesy suffix any time soon. Still, Takao did kind of miss the indignant way the hero's face would redden whenever he called him that, making more fuss out of the occasion than most normal people ever would.

"Anyway, you've got that magazine interview at 1 PM, you ready?"

"I reviewed the list of questions thrice last night. I am prepared."

"Stupid question! Of course I knew you would; I just gotta remind you, since that is kind of my job these days! Oh, but there is a change. They want to do a small photo-shoot to accompany the feature now. They'll be providing the wardrobe, but heads up," he leaned in conspiratorially before elaborating, "It involves one swimsuit shot. And I don't think they're knee-length trunks either, judging by how giddy the lady was when she was passing along the specifications."

Impressively enough, Midorima's lips curled downward in a faint frown, and that was the full scope of his reaction to the news.

When it came time for the photos to be taken though, that was going to be a sight to see. Takao would be lying if he said he wasn't looking forward to it. The question was, what was he more interested in - seeing so much of the guy's skin bared, or the hilarious juxtaposition of Fortune Fighter's serious face with such a playful wardrobe? He couldn't choose.

Sliding into the other chair behind the desk, Kazunari got comfortable. Such flagrant behavior - as deemed by Midorima alone - apparently couldn't be allowed to go without reprimand. The raven had pretty much been expecting that before he sat down, though, so to feel two lensed eyes burning a hole into his forehead wasn't particularly alarming.

"What are you doing?" It wasn't said venomously, more like, in Fortune Fighter's dialect, it translated to, '_I was not prepared for this turn of events, please discontinue them_.' The hero rarely came out and said things that clearly though, so Takao had to learn to interpret.

"Keeping you company! While putting my feet up too," he grinned, "I hope you don't mind. Everything should be ready to go for the rest of today."

Midorima's gaze summarily swept the room as if hoping some awaiting task might crop up to disprove the claim. As expected, none were delivered, and he was forced to abide Takao taking up space nearby, sipping cheerfully from a bottled sports drink. After dousing his throat with a generous swig, the raven turned his attention back on his boss, striking up conversation.

"Hey, so, I wanted to ask-"

The inquiry was curtailed by a familiar ring as the communicator on Fortune Fighter's wrist went off, blaring to the room that somewhere in the city, some manner of crime was in progress which required attending to. He responded immediately, pressing a finger to one of the buttons on the bracelet, indicating his taking up the call. After that, Midorima's eyes followed carefully as the location of the incident flashed across the screen of the communicator.

"Well, guess you don't have to wear that swimsuit after all!" the raven interjected humorously, leaning back in his chair. "Aren't you glad, Fortune Fighter-chan?"

"Now is not the time for your shenanigans, Takao," the hero replied, voice curt. "I trust you can conduct yourself appropriately in my absence. It seems this needs taking care of."

"Have I ever failed you before?" Takao probed amiably, a grin jiggling on his lips as he observed the hero bluster around the room.

Dressing up wasn't necessary. His crusading employer almost always arrived at work garbed in the basic suit, if not a cape and the remainder of his outfit. It was only the specialized goggles and other gear that he needed to equip himself with prior to any departure.

Characteristically, Fortune Fighter didn't rise to his bait. He pretended to be absorbed in his preparations, paying Takao no mind.

"I'll take that as a no, then," the raven chirruped to himself when the guy abruptly fled out the door.

It really was a shame that there would be no swimsuit shoot.

**. . . . .**

The times when Fortune Fighter was out on assignment he devoted to housekeeping.

Making sure all his upcoming appointments and appearances were updated on the large calendar hanging over his desk, that the correct drinks and edibles made their way into his kitchenette, and that everything in the hero's domain was spotless - those were all a part of Takao's job.

It was actually far more strenuous than one might have supposed; the chief task which gave him trouble was the maintenance of Fortune Fighter's collection of lucky items. For whatever reason, he kept all the ones he owned for at least a calendar year before recycling them. Three-hundred plus objects to look after was nothing to sniff at, not that Kazunari would, except perhaps when faced with the salt and pepper shaker set that were items from last May.

Humming idly to himself, he set about the ritual of setting them in order.

Depending on what it was, the object might needed to be dusted or wiped down, or perhaps washed if it was made of fabric. Cleaning wasn't among his favorite things to do, but it was a part of the madness working for his particular hero. Takao could see why other people might have turned tail and quit, looking forward to this bland routine every day, but he'd grown used to it as time wore on.

Today the section he was cleaning involved items from March: coffee mugs with cheesy slogans, lace doilies, and several red balloons which had long since shriveled from lack of helium. Eying the latter with a measure of pity, Takao picked up one of the mugs and began running a dust cloth over it. In this way, he made his way down the line, assessing each item before determining what to do with it.

When he arrived to the end of the row, a loud beeping noise indicated the timer on the washer-and-dryer set going off. Just one more thing he had to contend with. Takao discarded the rag and carefully placed the mug down, then rushed toward the buzzing source. He didn't want to be lectured by Fortune Fighter as he was the last time, when he left one of his lucky shirts in the dryer for too long and it had obtained numerous wrinkles.

Reaching inside the contraption, he plucked out a stuffed bear wearing, of all things, a basketball jersey. '_Huh, I forgot this was in here..._'

Kazunari had found the thing odd to begin with, but Oha-Asa had spoken and who was he to judge her proclamations? If this was the approved lucky item for the day, then he wasn't going to question it, no matter how ridiculous a bear playing basketball was in his mind. '_Maybe if it stood on its hind legs, but even then, it probably couldn't jump shoot_...' he ruminated internally, shutting the door to the dryer.

What was important was that the little guy was shiny and clean again! Earlier on in the day, during one of Fortune Fighter's power surges, the bear had been doused by a shattered cup of tea, soaking through its fur and causing the hero to grow even more wound up than he already was. It had only been the raven's swift offer to wash it that kept the situation from boiling over completely.

_Shit_. A mixture of panic and irritation brewed in his mind - how could he have forgotten to make the hero wait for the item before leaving the building?!

This was _today's_ lucky thing, and once Fortune Fighter realized he was without it, then he'd be all but useless on the scene. It wasn't that the lucky items tied into his powers, per se, but the guy was meticulous about possessing them, and if he didn't have one, then it was like he hit a mental wall that blocked him from using his NEXT abilities. No matter what anyone said to convince him otherwise, something in him refused to use them unless he had the day's charm at his side.

Kazunari couldn't allow that to happen. Whatever opinion he held on the matter of whether the items actually impacted someone's fate for the day, he'd be remiss not to make sure his boss had all the tools he needed to work. After all, his job was no ordinary one - the people of the city depended on him.

**. . . . .**

"This shit is getting ridiculous! Those vultures damn well know that Tiger and Shadow are uptown doing media appearances, so of course they're not going to come take care of this! I swear, I think that one reporter guy has it out for me. Trying to make me look like a loser errand boy just because I'm actually doing my job instead of posing for a camera."

"I don't relish being here with you either," Midorima clarified harshly, eyes darting around the front lobby of the building.

There were numerous elevators as well as two different entrances to stairs, one leading up, the other heading down to underground levels of the structure. Everything in the room looked untouched; there wasn't a semblance of a clue as to where the culprits might have gone to barricade themselves in.

"Ah yeah, isn't it one of your off days or something?"

"I have prepared to the best of my abilities, but it's true that my sign is not one of the more fortunate ones today. ...However, we're here, so let's just get it over with."

"At least we're on the same page. You can take the lead. I'm probably not even needed, to be honest. Pisses me off when they drag me in just for the broadcast. You know they're trying to market us as a duo, right? Our bosses think it will be more profitable if we work together. Like a cheap knock off of...well, those two," Aomine grumbled to himself, making his own visual sweep of the area.

Perturbed by the frustration in his tone, Midorima turned his gaze to the side for a few moments, drinking in what of the other hero's expression he could suss behind the mask.

It had been a few years since they stopped working together, so he should have settled his qualms already. Midorima could only surmise that it was the recent acquisition of a new partner for the Shadow that had exacerbated Aomine's feelings of remorse. He had no designs on being Daiki's therapist though, so he would say nothing. If the guy wanted to drown himself in negative feelings over the loss of his partner, then he could go for it on his own time.

There was a job to do.

"What way do you want to take?"

"Excuse me?" he intoned, not particularly understanding the question.

"What way do you want to search, up or down? I don't think splitting up is a good plan in this place, so we should try to decide on one area to search first, and pool our efforts there. May as well make the best of us being buddies for the day." Daiki's lips creased in a miniscule smile, humor stirred by his own turn of words. He turned into Midorima's direction, waiting for his judgment.

"Taking into account what we were briefed about their leader, up seems the more likely course. The chairman's office fits the profile of a place of power; they'll likely revel in the luxurious surroundings. Also, it is probably one of the better secured areas in the building; cameras, electronic door locking, that's fairly standard for an executive area."

"Wise thinking. Let's hit the stairs!"

"The elevators will be faster. We should conserve our energy since there are so many floors to travel," Shintarou counseled, remaining fully planted in the lobby.

"Yeah, but we won't be able to help anyone if they decide to cut off the power supply to the elevators, or something like that. I've got enough stamina to climb a few flights. Go slow if you want to or don't come at all. I'll just be taking all your rescue and capture points off your hands," Aomine quipped.

The mere arrogance of the statement was enough to light a spark within the other hero. He would not be underestimated.

An arduous sprint later, the two heroes arrived at the top level of the skyscraper, breathing hard but with spirits on fire. The cameras built into their goggles recorded the office atmosphere surrounding them. It was eerily silent, the floor devoid of life - no workers at the desks, no pages flying out of the massive fax machines that stood in one of the alcoves along the main walkway. That could be either a good thing or a bad one, depending on whether Shintarou's hunch had been correct or not.

Scoping out the area as they progressed through it, one of them kept track of one direction, and the second surveyed the other. No surprises were encountered, and the two wound up before the entrance to the main boardroom on that level, the ultimate destination of their search. Though it wasn't any noisier nor was it overtly suspicious, the closer they'd come to this door, the more their certainty in it being the correct location flourished. The entrance had an aura about it that seemed particularly ominous.

"How do you wanna do this? You break it down, and I'll hit them once the dust clears?"

"I doubt it will be that simple," Midorima purported, lensed eyes darting from the top of the door to the bottom. "This is a company known for home security technology, it wouldn't surprise me if they used a few of their products in their head office."

"I vote we just try it any-" Aomine began to respond, but his insolence was soon curtailed by a new addition.

"And there's the detective work you're so clever at," someone interjected, a smarmy voice crackling to life from somewhere over their heads. Both heroes' heads whipped around, searching for the source. Nothing immediately jumped out at either of them, and they stood their ground uncomfortably, waiting for the other party to continue. They were definitely at the right place. "It's good to see you here finally, Fortune Fighter. Indigo Bolt."

Mounted to the wall beside the boardroom doors was a flat screen television that had, only moments before, been showing the design of an upcoming safe the corporation was developing. Replacing the blueprint, a live feed materialized on the rectangular screen, one man in a faded wool mask at the center. The material was whole apart from where gaps uncovered his eyes and mouth, the latter of which was curved into an unsettling grin.

"Shall we get right down to business? I'm hoping we can come to an agreement that works best for both of our sides," he lilted, the video wavering in and out as if the connection between them was faulty.

"Doubt it," Daiki cut across his proposal, blunt and amused all in the same breath. "And I'm not really in the mood for a long chat. My perfect outcome involves you and your crew walking out of this building in handcuffs. That work for you, buddy?"

The perpetrator chuckled. "I'll leave after we're paid. We'll be needing a helicopter to make our exit, and 50 million wired to the account number I'll give you. Do it quick like and we'll be sure not to hurt the nice people we've got in here with us."

The recording panned back to reveal a wider scene - a handful of people crowded at the base of the long table that dominated the room, their hands and ankles bound with zip ties. They ranged from elegantly dressed executives in suits to normal workers in slacks and button-up shirts; even one man clad in jeans and a hooded sweatshirt was among the group, hunched over away from view, still enough to imagine he lay unconscious. Overall, they all looked worse for the wear, which raised the stakes considerably for the two heroes to handle this situation swiftly.

"You bastards are low…" he growled.

Sparks of orange and blue flared out from his fingertips, hissing and shimmering, yet soon fading away. Daiki's fists then clenched, drawing back his power. He jerked his head stiffly to the side, looking for Midorima's reaction. The other hero was standing ramrod straight, brows furrowed down beneath the tops of his goggles, clearly contemplating something. Daiki could only hope he knew what he was doing. That was Midorima's planning face, and with hostages thrown into the mix, they had to tread carefully.

"We might have to just do it," he urged as quietly as he could muster his voice, "I doubt they're faster than we are when we get going. Someone may get hurt, but not badly before we can take care of those guys."

'_It must have been left behind in the wash_,' Shintarou realized with dawning horror, recalling his haste in departing the office. He'd been so preoccupied with scurrying off to the crime scene – and though he loathed to admit it, out from the teasing graces of his assistant – that he'd neglected to take back possession of his lucky bear for the day. '_Without it, I cannot…_'

"Hey, are you gonna do anything? We're kind out of time here," Daiki groused, cutting his internal dialogue short.

"I do not have the bear that safeguards Cancers for today in my possession. You will have to operate independently from this point forward."

His assertion was received with a blank stare, followed by a round of astonished blinking for good measure. "You have got to be kidding me with that shit…" Daiki trailed off incredulously. "You're going to dump all the work on me now because you don't have some stupid stuffed animal?!"

Midorima's posture grew more rigid. "It's vital to-"

"Don't care. If I've got to do it myself, then fine. I'm more than enough to handle this." With that declaration, Aomine broke rank and swept in close to the boardroom doors, palms outstretched and the air around him humming with building energy.

"I wouldn't recommend using your little gift, Bolt. If you fry the electrical system, the doors will remain locked and you'll only have sealed us inside for good. And then where will you be in your rescue mission? Lucky Boy over there can't cut through them, so you'll have to depend on us to let you in manually. And we'll only do that if you meet our demands. Save us all some time - just have the cash wired and the transport readied and we'll soon be out of your hair."

The heroes exchanged wearied glances. This situation was more trouble than either had bargained for.

**. . . . .**

Well, Kazunari had never thought he'd see the day when his job involved sneaking past the yellow tape that delineated a police perimeter. Working for a Hero did carry some eccentricities, but this was definitely a first.

The jersey-clad bear he was smuggling in was bundled safely underneath Takao's zipped-up jacket, plush face poking into his abdomen. That way he didn't have to keep a hold of the item nor did he have to worry about his intentions being guessed at. Somehow he didn't think he'd earn many charm points being a regular guy carting around a child's toy. Combine that with his drab change of clothes, and he looked like a nobody, which undoubtedly was part of the reason he'd escaped notice up until now. Everyone crowded around the building only had eyes for the cameras.

Having worked on the set of a show before his current assignment, Kazunari was used to what a media presence looked like, but Hero TV took it to an all new level. Not only were there multiple reporters on the ground badgering the cops or soliciting comments from onlookers, but he knew that inside the various vans parked nearby, editors were busy running through the footage gleaned from the heroes' helmet cameras; something that was essential when the crime being investigated took place anywhere that wasn't out in the open. All of it was a little excessive, but for the top rated program in this city, grandiosity was to be expected, he supposed.

In any event, he had his own job to be getting on with. The raven ducked around one side of the building, making his way down an alley until he located what he was looking for - an employee entrance. The door was easy to get open in his opinion; it didn't even require a badge swipe or pass code - typical for most places these days. This was to his benefit though, so he wasn't about to complain about the oversight. Heck, you could even point at it as one reason the company fell victim to a hostile takeover in the first place.

After scanning for any signs of life, Takao slid into a dimly lit archway, cautiously making his way down a long hallway.

He peered around for a better source of light, but found that task to be completely futile. This area of the building was where things got delivered or shipped - it didn't have to look pretty or welcoming for the public. At this rate, he would have to keep foolishly moving forward until he reached the end. Which thankfully wasn't too far off, and he soon approached a row of elevators.

Apprehensively, Takao debated as he listened to the eerie silence surrounding him. Being stuck in a metal box suspended in the air in this kind of situation wasn't ideal. He couldn't be sure how safe the contraptions were, if they might have been tampered with. Takao shook his head. If he wanted to rush the lucky charm to Fortune Fighter before some unexpected crisis occurred, he was going to have to suck it up. Surely he would be blamed for the absence of his item of the day, even though the other had been the one to carelessly leave it behind. The sooner he rectified the mistake, the sooner this whole case could get wrapped up.

Releasing a confined breath, the raven jabbed the glowing 'up' button and cringed as the steel doors eased apart. The space was a bit smaller than he had imagined- cramped even (a service elevator, perhaps), but claustrophobia was the least of his current worries. Now the question lingering question was, as he stared at the twenty one buttons before him, which floor? With a shrug, he decided on the first one that his eyes happened upon. After all, he had never been in said building, so exploring it in search of his hapless boss was likely going to be a lengthy process anyway. No one could say for sure what level the heroes had gone to investigate.

When the doors creaked open and revealed rows and rows of empty cubicles, Kazunari huffed in exasperation. What was he going to find here? Likely a whole lot of nothing. Not only that, but this whole trip had just wasted a great chunk of his time.

There wasn't anything he could do to assure he found the heroes quickly, but a part of him had been hoping for a lucky break. What if by now Fortune Fighter was in extreme peril and it was all because he lacked his lucky item?

It probably sounded absurd to most people, but the hero relied on having those trinkets in hand to give him the strength to fight. How, why, and when that preoccupation had begun, he didn't know, but it was simply one of the many idiosyncrasies that made up the man who the hero was. Feeling his anxiety beginning to multiply, Takao sprung into action once more and rushed back to the elevators. Frantically he pressed in the button and waited as the lift next to the one he'd taken to come here arrived.

Only this time, he wouldn't be alone.

As the doors slid open, Takao was unexpectedly greeted by a tall silhouette. Frozen in place, he debated on fleeing back into the office, but before a conclusion could form in his harried mind, a heavy object crashed against the top of his head.

Eyes rolling backwards, he struggled to maintain consciousness, but the pulsating in his skull soon altered into a throbbing headache. By the shaking of the elevator, he was at least able to comprehend he was in motion once again, but to where? And who was standing beside him?

Kazunari's lids shakily parted, only to slam closed at an intense force applied to them. He winced, inaudibly counting the seconds before attempting to look once again. Upon doing so, he discovered he was in an extremely luminous room and he wasn't the only inhabitant. Next to him appeared to be another bound hostage, just as he currently was. The more he regained awareness, he realized there were numerous captives. However, aside from the actual situation itself, when did he lose complete consciousness to not realize he had been taken here? For how long had he been out? He couldn't remember.

As he vaguely listened to the low voices around him, Takao lowered his head in defeat.

His whole plan to bring Fortune Fighter his lucky item had slipped completely from his grasp. At this rate, the man would never obtain the bear, would falter in his work, and Takao knew for sure he'd be blamed. Hell, he'd blame himself for being so naive as to run into a crime scene without a plan. It wasn't just that, though. Each time he tried to gain more acceptance from his idol, he always seemed to stumble. The one time he was sure he could accomplish a mission without any issues, prove himself valuable, he instead found himself in yet another sticky situation.

Geez, and all he'd ever wanted was to make the guy look at him. Maybe that dream was too far-fetched for someone as aloof as the hero was. Even so, Kazunari knew he was persistent enough to keep trying, futile as his attempts might end up being. Recent revelations had only fueled his desire to connect with Fortune Fighter on a deeper level.

You see, when he'd come to work that first day and seen his true face, Takao had realized something.

Granted, he hadn't exactly known what that was for a while. It had been a feeling at first, a nagging conundrum residing in the back of his brain, annoying him with his own inability to make the light bulb come on. A case of knowing he'd probably seen the hero before with the question being, _where_? Not until today in all its routine glory did the truth occur to him.

Stretching the limits of reasonable belief, he actually... remembered the guy.

He'd known him, once upon a time, when they were much younger. It was an intriguing if useless conclusion, given the fact that enough history had passed that the hero didn't know him. The knowledge strengthened Takao's conviction of liking the man, but if he was being honest, it was probably better the other didn't remember. Having a clean slate seemed far better than where they'd left off before.

**To Be Continued.**


End file.
